


Boutonniere

by plush_anon



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Companionable Snark, F/M, Floriography, Fluff, Gratuitous Use of Floriography, Sweetness, butterfly bog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:04:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plush_anon/pseuds/plush_anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Granted, she wasn’t about to tell Bog that boutonnieres were for men to wear, but he’d seemed such a quiet, mumbling mess of nerves about the whole presentation that she wouldn’t comment on it."</p>
<p>Wherein Bog makes Marianne a boutonniere, and fluff ensues.</p>
<p>Warning: gratuitous abuse of floriography.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boutonniere

“So…” The Bog King shifted in place, shuffling his feet over the petrified floor. “Do - do you like it? Or is it a bit, um… I mean, I don’t have much experience in making these, but if it’s too much, I can always - ”

“NO!” Bog snatched his hand back, and Marianne winced. “Well, I - no, I do like it, Bog, it’s - it’s lovely.” And it was; the small cluster of petals and leaves was quite nice, if a bit bright in nature. Granted, she wasn’t about to tell Bog that boutonnieres were for men to wear, but he’d seemed such a quiet, mumbling mess of nerves about the whole presentation that she wouldn’t comment on it. “Thank you." 

"Ah, you’re - you’re welcome,” he mumbled back, eyes stuck firmly to the ground.

“Nuh uh, none of that.” She flittered up to him, peering in his face as he stubbornly refused to look. “Bog? Bo-og? Look at me Boggy.”

“It’s Bog.”

“Oh shush, you love it and you know it.”

He snorted. “Sure, tough girl, whatever you say.” But his lips twitched, and his eyes darted up. “You really - do like it, then?”

“Course I do. You made it for me, you doof!” She smacked him lightly in the arm (no matter how much he protested, it was still healing) and kissed him on the tip of his ear, making him flush red. “Though I will admit, the choices are a bit… enthusiastic in declaration.”

The Bog King’s flush didn’t fade; if anything, it deepened, turning flirtation into mild embarrassment. “Well, your sister said that the Fairies have a different perspective on these sort of -”

“Woah, hold up, wait a minute, back up, time out,” Marianne covered his mouth with her hands, ignoring his cocked eyebrow. “Dawn helped you with this?”

“Uh, yes? I’ve not exactly had a lifetime’s worth of experience making these, y'know, and when she saw what I was working on - and not even that well, tell the truth - she stepped in and showed me how to do it... properly.”

She stared at him. “Properly.”

“Yeah.”

“On a personal boutonniere.”

“Right.”

"For me."

"Mm-hmm."

“…how many?”

Bog blinked. “What?”

“How many did you two go through until she found one that met the ‘proper fairy’ criteria?” The goblin grimaced, and tapped his fingertips together in an uneven staccato rhythm.

“Uh…”

“Bog…”

“Maybe I could just - show you, instead?” Bog placed a hand on her back (and she checked to make sure it was actually his this time, instead of a molted goblin shell), and guided her to a thin, almost ordinary door down the hall. It looked remarkably uninteresting and out of place at the same time. Strange.

He gestured for her to open it with a resigned look, and she stepped through to find a mess of flora, scattered over the small work table in the center, and plastered to the walls. She glided through the room, her toes brushing against crumpled balls of parchment and dried-out leaves. 

“A great battle was fought here, eons ago,” Marianne declared solemnly, and Bog scoffed.

“Oh hardy har, mock my hours of agonizing, painstaking labor, why don’t you?”

She grinned. “Well, if you insist…” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“Whatever am I going to do? I’m surrounding myself with meddling princesses and I only have myself to blame.”

“Yup,” Marianne chirped, fingers skittering through the debris. Her fingers caught the back of a pin. “Ah!”

“What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing, just - caught myself on a pin, I’m fine.”

“Did you draw blood?”

“Boggy..”

“It’s Bog, now let me check.” The fairy resigned herself to being fussed over, while he dutifully inspected her fingers. “Some of these plants are poisonous, dearie, I don’t want to see you dead over a failed flower arrangement.”

“Poisonous?” She gave him a Look, and he cleared his throat, busying himself with her hands.

“There are only so many options to work with here in the forest, lass. Besides, that’s what the gloss is for, it keeps the deadlier extracts in.” He pulled her hand up to his face and squinted. “All’s well here, no harm. Just be careful, would you?”

“Aren’t I always?”

“Weeeell…” She tweaked his nose and darted away before he could blink.

“Don’t answer that.”

“Yes, dear.”

“Now,” Marianne clapped her hands together and rubbed them like a desperate camper with two sticks, “I wanna see your first attempts.”

“Yanna, why,” Bog moaned. “They’re an awful mess, it’s embarrassing.”

“Pleeeeaaasse?” She smiled at him - well, she tried to, anyway - and he bent over double, cackling.

“Oh Balar, your fake smiles are worse than mine. And no.” She darted towards him, and he spun away, wagging a finger at her. “Nah ah, none of that.”

“Come on, let me see them.” She looped under the table while he flickered over, and the two circled each other in the air. A wicked idea blossomed in her head. It was cheating, but the ends justified the means.

Usually.

“Nope. I’ll say it once, and I’ll say it again, Princess. Not showing ya anything, it’s humiliating.”

She pressed a finger to her lips and pretended to think. “Not even.. that one?” She pointed at the cluttered tabletop, and Bog looked down. A fatal mistake.

“Wait, wha - but there wasn’t - ” Marianne didn’t given him time to finish before she barreled into him, dragging her nails down his back. He yelped, and the two plummeted to the floor. 

As Bog reoriented himself, Marianne snatched the boutonniere her fingers had caught on earlier, holding her trophy high. “HAH!”

“Oh c'mon, that’s not even remotely fair,” he whined. “I thought we agreed to no targeting the sweet spots in sparring, you cheater!” Silence greeted his complaints, and he rose up, ignoring the creaks in his limbs. “Mari?”

She was staring at the boutonniere she had sniped. He grimaced. “Marianne - ”

“Alyssum, hosta, hydrangea. Purple iris and -”

“Purple Asters,” Bog finished. Her fingertips grazed the dark petals and strangely-painted leaves. “Your uh, your sister said these were too dark, and um, subtle for your kind, as they tend to used for very - bright, boisterous, affairs, and things between the kingdoms are still pretty shaky and I didn’t want anything to upset the engagement proceedings, given how badly the last one went and I - I shouldn’t have said that, just ignore me while I - ”

He never got to finish his sentence. Instead, the two tumbled back down to the floor, rather passionately lip-locked for several wonderful moments.

Marianne broke off first, smacked him in the shoulder, and kissed him again. “For future reference? Don’t listen to my sister about flowers for me again because these are perfect and way better than roses and red tulips and - what is this, mimosa?" She lifted the first boutonniere up at arm's length, groaned, and flung it against the wall. "Ugh, no. I like these WAY way better, okay?”

“Uh…”

“Not to mention this is beautifully arranged! Everything is balanced and arrayed really nicely, and don’t tell me Dawn did this because she wouldn’t come near purple this dark if you paid her in prisms.”

“Um…”

“Granted, she probably had a hand in showing you how to make these, but it doesn’t change the fact that this is one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever made me and - you do know what they all mean, right?”

“Well, ah, I used the book over there, so...” Marianne looked over, and upon seeing the massive floriography tome half-buried under a pile of lily-of-the-valley petals and dried thyme, did something very out of character.

She squealed. 

Bog bit his cheek down hard to keep from snorting, as Marianne spun in circles. Oooh, he was never going to let her live this down. Never ever ever. And it was her own fault too, for using the back spots against him like that.

“You - you jerk! Now I’m all mushy and goopy over how romantic this is.” She slumped against him in a half-embrace, kissed his nose and sighed. “You’re awful.”

Bog stared at her, uncertain as to what to do. “Er… I’m, ah… I’m not apologizing. Just so you know.”

“Good. I can’t really say I want you to.” She smiled, widely, truly, and mercies, he was a lucky goblin.

He leaned up to kiss her again, chuckling under his breath, when she pulled away. “Oh, and for the record? I like the darker flowers. Especially in this context. These are just…” The fairy shook her head, eyes gleaming. “C'mere, Bog.”

“It’s Boggy,” he corrected, and swore. She laughed against his lips and pulled him deeper, and he didn’t quite mind so much after that.

And when the wedding finally came, the two were too entranced with each other to really even notice Dawn’s exasperation over her terribly unfashionable (but still quite adorable) sister and new brother-in-law.

**Author's Note:**

> Meanings of the Flowers:
> 
> Alyssum - Worth beyond Beauty.  
> Hosta - Devotion  
> Hydrangea - Perseverance; thank you for understanding  
> Purple Iris - Valor, Wisdom, Promise  
> Purple Asters - Love and Patience
> 
> Roses - I Love You  
> Red Tulips - Perfect Love  
> Mimosa - Sensitivity, Delicacy
> 
> Lily-of-the-Valley - Return to Happiness  
> Thyme - Strength and Courage


End file.
